


Courage of Stars

by Elleth



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Hope, The Star-Cloak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 23:32:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11519817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth
Summary: Éowyn understands the maker of the star-cloak.





	Courage of Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zdenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/gifts).



Éowyn treats the star-cloak with honour from the first. It is meet for such a garment, the fine workmanship, the gentle hands that gifted it that she loves. But she feels traces of another heart and mind woven into the fabric and the stars, some strange blood-kinship stretching generations back that answers to something in herself as she stands opposing the dark mountain bulwark across the Long-River, the tremors cracking even the White City's stonework. 

She does not ask - not yet - for the world hangs suspended between defeat and healing, and when doom strikes, only one will be her lot. 

-

She holds it in honour after, also - for the woman who came to this city and withered as Éowyn felt she must wither under the pitiless darkness rising to the very stars. But the sigh of passing that rises from the lands opens up the heavens, and when evening falls there are stars on night-blue sky to mirror those on night-blue silk, and night is fair with bliss, not dark with grief. 

A token of hope and healing then, Éowyn understands, moving the cloak-maker's mind across the time, perhaps - the certainty that no dark endures although its triumph seems certain. 

-

The fair image that Faramir shows her of Finduilas, wearing the same cloak that is now Éowyn's, has the kind eyes that she finds mirrored in the face she loves so well, for they are full of hope beyond the measure of her body. A sewing needle glints like a spark in her hand, and to Éowyn it is more potent than any sword and any end-all of the death she has known so far, measured only in renown and song. 

She draws the mantle tighter around herself, put in memory of her grandmother's namesake-tale, saying, "She was not conquered."

**Author's Note:**

> 3x100 words as per GDocs.


End file.
